


clearly, this is meant to be

by ooka



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ooka/pseuds/ooka
Summary: "I figured out what George was always trying to get me to understand.""What?" Chris asks.Winona smiles.  "Sometimes home is the only mission that matters."(Glasses!Kirk AU-ish, because a smart, mouthy Jim isn't anything different.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So if you guys hadn't cottoned onto this, I was mamaesme on lj almost a decade ago. Long story short, I wrote a lot of shitty stories, deleted the lost in a great fear of how "big brother" my job would be (It is. There are databases where they store anything tied to our names their site crawlers find. I just learned to care less.) 
> 
> I lost a lot of my old stories, but clearly is one I saved. So here is some vaguely reworked pieces of it, but mostly not. I have no clue if I will ever finish it, but it's a thing. It exists. It was supposed to end in Kirk/Spock but well, lol.
> 
> (THIS IS NOT GOOD. LIKE AT ALL. i'm not being cute. This is actual shit. you guys have no idea the amount of cringe I have for this. Ugggghhh. This was legit ASKED FOR)

He’s having trouble in school, the teachers tell her. Winona has grease in her hair and is forty-seven days out from the end of this five year mission, and they are finally on their way back home. Along with an eight year old who is having trouble in school back in Iowa. 

“Is it behavioral?” Winona asks, tired down to her bones. George was the ideal student. Always on time, always did his homework. Winona...Winona hadn’t. Sam hasn’t had this problem, but Winona’s known Jim has a bit too much of her in him since she looked into his eyes with the alarms screaming in their ears. 

“No,” Ms Cathy Jenkins, and god, Winona can remember when she won homecoming queen. “He’s failed the usual vision tests at the beginning of the year.”

Rubbing her temple, Winona has to ask, “Wasn’t that test three months ago?”

“Yes,” Cathy says in the same clipped tone her mother used on Winona when she was caught cutting class. “I don’t believe Frank has done a thing about it. I know you’re coming home soon Winona, so I wanted you to be aware of the situation.”

When Cathy’s eyes slide to the side, and Winona knows that isn’t the only thing going on. “Cathy, tell me.”

Cathy tells her everything.

 

Going to the optometrist on Earth is just one in a million stops Winona’s got planned out for her time back. Jim enjoys it more than she thought a kid could. He asks the nurse five million questions about the machines checking his eyes. He always looks back to her and reiterates pieces with a wide grin on his face. Winona watches the whole episode with her heart in her throat. _Look at your boy George_ , she thinks. _He’s so smart. Maybe I didn’t screw him up._

When the doctor finally fits Jim with a pair of glasses, he pulls Winona aside. “This should fix any problems with him struggling in school. He probably couldn’t read the board before, but this should take care of that.”

“Ah,” Winona gives him tight lipped smile.

He continues. “We don’t like to fix the eyesight of any one under 18, but we should be able to proceed with the laser treatment as soon as he turns 18. He’ll want it with his vision being as poor as it is now.” 

Winona thanks him before turning back to her son. Jim’s enthralled with choosing a lollipop color, so she waits until he turns back to her. 

Cathy hadn’t said anything about Jim’s grades suffering. The exact opposite really. It was Sam she was more worried about. He was becoming more silent and withdrawn. His homework was always done, but he wasn’t performing well on test or quizzes.

When Jim spins on his heel, lollipop already firmly planted in his mouth, Winona bends down until she can meet his eyes. The light brown frames sat firmly across his nose, making his eyes look larger and so much bluer than before. “How are they Jim?” she asks.  
James pulled his lollipop out of his mouth – blue, she noted with idle interest – and replies, “You have pretty brown eyes, Mom. I wasn’t sure what color they were before.”

Winona bites her lip. This was a problem. How had no one noticed this before? How had she not noticed? “Jim,” she carefully says, “How are you able to do so well in your classes if you can’t see the board?”

Jim beams at her, like she had discovered his secret. “It’s easy Mommy,” he grasps her hand and pulls her towards the front door of the store. She has to straighten in a hurry so she wouldn’t be drug out of the store by her youngest. “Really easy. Sam’s homework is way harder than what they teach in class.”

Holding on tightly to her little boy’s hand, Winona Kirk swallows hard before she pushed the front door open, allowing her and her son to leave. “Is Sam’s homework hard?” She is hesitant to ask but needs to know.

“Nope,” her son utters around his lollipop. “But that old green textbook in the living room is. I’ve finally finished section seven of chapter three.”

They’re at the car, and Winona has to fumble for her keys. It could be from the shock or the fact that she isn’t used to needing keys for anything after 5 years on a ship. “James Tiberius Kirk, it’s not good to lie to your mother.”

“But I’m not,” James immediately replies, a tinge of hurt underlying his tone. “It’s your al...algeebrah book?”

She finally gets the door opened and Jim immediately crawls into the front seat. He crosses his arms and glares out the front window. His chubby cheeks are puffed out, and Winona wants to pull him into her arms. Her baby is so young and so old at the same time. It hurts to look at him.

Somewhere, deep in her gut, she aches. She aches for George, the familiar pull. But there is a new one, a fresh wound there that reminds her she could have been here if it wasn’t for the money they needed. If she hadn’t been looking to push everything down. If she hadn’t run away from her boys who were too much George and not enough her.

“Algebra ,” Winona reaches for his cheek and turns him to her. “Baby, that’s a book for kids a lot older than you. How did you learn to do the problems?”

“I just read the chapters, and it was easy,” Jim shrugs. He still won’t meet her eyes.

He shouldn’t be able to do algebra before he reaches the 3rd grade. He shouldn’t. But then again, she hadn’t had much trouble with school. That’s why she had fallen into the Science Track when she first entered Starfleet. She had wanted to be challenged, to learn, to have to work for some sort of knowledge unlike the basics she had always just understood. 

“Okay baby,” she says out loud. The words sound a little too loud in her ears, but she’s going to blame that on the echo than the shock. “Buckle up. When we get home I want you to take a quick test so I can make sure you’re getting the right classes. You’ve gotta be bored in class right now.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “But it’s okay.”

She stills. “Why would you say that?”

“I like the people in the class,” he says. Oh, she thinks. That is all George there. From his forlorn face, and the way his bottom lip sticks out, and it hurts. It hurts so much she can barely breathe. “But I think I like learning stuff more.”

She puts a hand on his cheek. “We’ll get it figured out baby.”

 

James, she firmly thought after a few days, a few bottles, and a not a lot of sleep, wouldn’t go down that path to be Captain. He was her boy as well. He could – and would with the proper guidance – learn to love science as much as she did. Maybe even become a Science Officer at Starfleet, even though she honestly would rather lock her little boy up in the basement and never let him out than let him join the ranks of men and women on starships.

“Baby,” she murmured as they began walking again, this time towards an educational store. “We need to get you more interesting textbooks.”

James cheered at her side, already thirsting over the idea of new books, better books to read and devour. “Can I get the new Star Adventurer holo game?” He pushed. Winona nodded absentmindedly, already planning the new education of her youngest son, one away from a captaincy and more based in science and logical conclusions.

But then, Jim was always his own force of nature.

 

Jim’s excited by the adventure of missing a day of school with his mother. Sam had his day yesterday, and had told Jim, both huddled under the covers of Sam’s bed that they spent the entire day in the science museum. Mom had pointed out the coolest things, telling Sam all the facts that weren’t on the cards. 

They had even had ice cream for lunch!

Mom tells him they have a doctor’s appointment they have to go to first, but then it’s whatever he wants. He gets to ride in the front seat, let’s keep this between us, Mom says. Jim bobs his head up and down

 

“Can we go home and work on Dad’s car?”

Mom’s hand is tight on his, but she replies, “Whatever you want sweetheart.”

Jim cheers. It’s the best day ever.

 

Stretched out on his couch, Chris Pike’s first and only thought right now is that he fucking hates the mandatory leave after a five year mission and is bored out of his mind. So of course, his comm rings and he has to scramble to get it in time. 

Winona looks tired and old. She’s always looked aged after George’s death, but the lines on her face look engraved in stone and the bags under her eyes are deeper and darker than before, which is pretty fucking hard to pull off after the five year mission they just got back from.

"I'm resigning," she starts before he even has time to say hello. "I'm going to suggest you take my position."

Chris' mouth drops, and it takes him a minute or five before he says anything. "I thought you would go down with the ship," he offers, and then winces.

She laughs, tired, beautiful and forever heartbroken. Chris knows to lock down anything he is feeling. He always knows. "I figured out what George was always trying to get me to understand."

"What?" he asks. 

She smiles. "Sometimes home is the only mission that matters."


	2. Chapter 2

When people looked at Jim, they remembered his father.  They saw the same blue eyes, same unruly locks, and even the same stance.  They saw George Kirk in every line of Jim’s profile from the moment he was born until the moment he proved himself to not be, in any semblance or form, like his father.

His father – Captain George Kirk of the U.S.S. Kelvin – was Captain of a starship for twelve minutes and ended up saving eight hundred of the passengers on the ship.  A ghost that would always be there, haunting every step Jim’s life, George Kirk never meant for this to happen to his son.  He didn’t even consider himself a hero in those twelve minutes he was Captain.  All he could think was  _ not Winona, not her.  Not now.  Not with my little boy, not with Sam waiting for us back home. Nononono!   _ Those few minutes were enough to go down in the history of Starfleet, enough for a ship to lose its Captain (and ship itself), enough to let a family lose their father, enough to curse James Tiberius Kirk. 

But what people didn’t see when they looked at the newborn baby being clutched tightly in Science Officer Winona Kirk’s arms, was that he had his mother’s nose, her chin and her stubborn personality.  They forgot the other half of his DNA had been given to him by a woman who would be able to survive past her husband’s far too early death.  

They expected him to do decently in school, enter Starfleet Academy the first moment he could, and immediately be set on track to become a Captain.  Maybe even the youngest one Starfleet had ever seen.  That’s what everyone expected when they heard his name.

Jim learned early on he pretty much didn't care about anyone's expectations.  He just followed whatever interested him.  

And he did.  

 

 

 

Captain Pike found Jim a month after he had gotten his latest degree and arrived back home, trying to figure out how to reject the professor position at Yale without offending anyone.  Twenty five and bored out of his mind,  Jim had decided to go to the local bar and grab a meal.  He had barely made twenty steps into the bar when he saw her, the exotic beauty with great legs. 

Starfleet cadet, he knew, the moment he really looked at her.  Probably communications with a specialty in xenolingustics if the tiny recorder pretending to be an earring he had seen was real.  She was gorgeous, but Jim was less interested once he realized her dress was a cadet outfit.  Still, he slipped onto  the barstool next to her since it was just about the only open space on the cadet backed bar.  Probably some class outting.  It'd been about seven years since he had spent more than a weekend in town and he had forgotten how much Starfleet owned it since the shipyard had gotten up and running.  

Jim hunched and waved down Allan for a drink.  He got a smile and tossed a bottle for his trouble.  

Half an hour later, the punch came out of nowhere as he was chatting to the group of cadets about the Greyson theory and Vulcan formality between High and Common Vulcan, and how the languages had kind of come together in the post Surak era instead of the common regional dialects being as drastically different.  He stumbled backwards off the stool, but stayed standing as he used his tongue to feel around and check for any lose teeth.  Using a regenerator on bone sucked, not like the dermal versions.  Bones needed longer wait times and necessitated casts even though the healing time was shorter.  

“What the fuck?”  H e spluttered .  “What did I do to piss you off?”

The asshole was drunk.  Big, muscled, but drunk.  " You were looking at Uhura funny.”

Gorgeous legs, who was _still_ a cadet and a part of Starfleet, had said her name was Nyota Uhura.  They had been arguing on if Greyson was right, or if she had just written a paper based more on the lore from her husband's culture and using obscure texts to back herself up to the amusement of her friends.  She kept slipping into lightly accented Vulcan as she argued.  (Uhura was for Greyson's theory, and Jim agreed.  He just wanted an argument to push the restlessness out of his blood.  She had taken the bait pretty quickly after he had proved he wasn't some backwards hick trying to flirt.)

He  gaped.  "Nyota ?”  H e asked.

“ _Uhura_ ,” the kid retorted, because who else started bar fights over chatting with someone - a jealous child that's who.  "Don't call her by her first name.  You don't have the right."

"We're just talking."  Jim leaned back, taking a step and watching as a few people followed the kid when he followed Jim.  There was a group circling, and Allan still wasn't back from pulling some more beer from the back of the bar.  Fuck, this was going to suck.

The cadet leaned in, "You're putting moves on her, and she shouldn't waste her time on some dumb hick in the middle of Iowa."

Jim raised an eyebrow at Uhura  who was staring at the argument with a blank expression.  "Your boyfriend?" he asked, just to check.  


"No," she said shortly.  Uhura looked as irritated as he was at having their argument interrupted.

"Okay good," Jim replied.  "So I don't feel bad about doing this then."  He grabbed the front of the cadet's uniform and reeled in him before punching him three times in the face in quick succession and releasing him.  The kid stumbled backwards, holding his hand to his nose, mumbling to his buddy to looked pissed.  The guy turned to Jim and started rushing him, five other guys following suit.  

He ducked the first one's fist, kicked the second one in the nuts into two of his buddies and sending them backwards.  The fifth guy came up behind him and tried to grab Jim.  Instead, Jim elbowed his gut, felt the rush of air from the cadet as he gasped out of breath and turned around and brought the guys head crashing down on his knee.  He could hear the others getting up, so he turned as the last guy staggered away to barely duck a punch.  He upper cut this one with his right and use his left to take out the guy behind him with a hit to the throat.

"Cadets!" a voice thundered, and everyone, except Jim stopped.  He knocked the feet out from under the guy in front of him who went crashing to the ground before turning around.  

The man in the opening of the ring of cadet red wore the grey of a teacher, but had the lines of a captain.  He stepped forward past the end of the ring, and Jim almost laughed.  Of fucking course.   Jim sketched out a mocking salute before calling out , “Captain Pike, good to see you again.  Here to try and recruit me?”

Locals began exchanging money in the back, but the cadets were baffled.   “Every day until I die,” Chris Pike replied, with a hint of a smile.  

Most of the crowd shifted uncomfortably as J im laughed.  “If it’s your dying wish, I may actually think about it besides just rejecting you plain out.”

 

Pike shoo his head before he turned to face the crowd.  Many cadets cowered, and more money was exchanged in the background.  "Get back on base and in the temporary rooms. We'll be talking about mission behavior, and how punching a local is not ideal cadet behavior, nor is not stopping a fight."  he cadets began evacuating and a few helped the six who attacked him out of the bar.  

Cadet Uhura brushed past him and dropped a napkin in his hand.  "I want to finish that argument because you are  _wrong,_ " she said before being hurried out by her friends.

Jim shook his head before pressing the napkin against his face.  "what did you do to get stuck with those morons Chris?" he asked when the room has emptied.  

"I'm waiting on your mother to finish a ship," Pike replied.  "Apparently she is trying to build an entirely new warp class of engines, and the Enterprise just has to be built around this new engine."  He picked up a half full glass and eyed it before drinking it.  "I'd be grateful if you could prod her to finish before the three years she keeps projecting as the deadline date if she doesn't 'sleep, eat, or have sex, which is important Chris'."  The tone of Winona Kirk was uncanny.

"Can you not quote my mother about her sex life, please and thank you?" Jim cringed.  "I get enough of that from her once I turned 22.  I don't know if she is trying to scar me from having sex or just bragging at this point."

Pike raises an eyebrow, and Jim just doesn't even want to know what has been bitched about him between the two of them.  "Don't," he warns, and Pike breaks into laughter.

"Still no to the Academy?" Pike queries, just in case.  There was a time, back when Jim was 18 that he had had a  longing in his eyes, and Pike had promised that it could be different – _would_ be different – if he just took a chance and went to the Academy.  Jim had nearly taken him up on that, nearly defied his mother,  _ nearly _ done it.  But days before he was supposed to show up, he had sent his regrets and went to Harvard instead.

But he had his books, his studies and his labs.  That was enough.  It had always been enough.

Jim shook his head, and Pike studied him solemnly before nodding.  "It's been good to see you kid," Pike said finally and shifted.  

Jim tilted his head, feeling the pain radiating  across the bridge of his noise as he met his eyes.  He was going to say something, and Jim really hoped it wasn’t another speech about Starfleet.  He really hoped it wasn’t.

“Think about what you could do,” Pike simply stated, “ I f you had the most cutting tools out there.  What worlds you could discover on the edges of space.  The amount of lives you could save.  Think about it.”

Pike exited the room swiftly, dramatic as always, that had to be something they taught at Starfleet, and leaving Jim at the bar with Allan who passes him a beer quietly.  Pike always knew what to say to get to Jim.  Always knew how to word his request to remind himself of the 18 year old kid who had been his mother's so long that he wanted to be his fathers for a moment.  

"You know," Allan says, "Your room took the first shuttle out of here to get to Starfleet.  Your dad went with her."

"And it killed him," Jim replies shortly before taking a long pull of the beer before putting it against his face.  The cool glass was doing wonders for the bruise he knew was spreading across his cheek.

"She carved her own destiny out of the skies.  Shouldn't you get the same chance?" Allan asks before he walks away to bus up with empty glasses and bottles the cadets left.

Jim ponders on that until he finishes his beer, long gone warm and heads on back to the house.  

 

Winona Kirk had pulled him out of the public school system the moment she had figured out that he was a genius in the rough (or just a very,  _ very _ lazy genius).  She had taught him all she knew, making sure to pepper in enough physical activity to support his little boy side underneath all of the mathematical equations and scientific logic.

She had pretty much groomed him to become a Science Officer for Starfleet.  He had known that the moment she started teaching him out of her old  s cience textbooks.  Jim hadn’t really cared.  He had just loved playing with the numbers, finding something that was suddenly harder for him, something that didn’t seem like a story that he could do in his sleep.  He loved the challenge d , loved learning, loved exceeding at something.

He always had.

Starfleet was a place where he could exceed, be challenged for the first time in a while, instead of collecting degrees like they were trading holos.  He was bored.  He had been for a while.  Jim just hadn't wanted to admit it.

He cut off the motor and got off the bike. His mother was sitting at the table when he walked in.  She looked exactly like she had all those years ago, a touch of gray at the temple in her flowing hair and wearing her lab coat, even though it was ten at night.  Jim smiled at that,. ever the Scientist till the end, his mother.

Winona Kirk had left  the Starfleet one and a half five year missions after her youngest child had been born in the black and her husband had sacrificed himself for the mission.  Science had been her life, craving knowledge, learning more and building something extraordinary.  Exploring had been second to it.   It had been the Kirk blood that had felt the wanderlust.  Settling back in their country home, she settled herself into a new life, raising her children and consulting for more than a decade before being lured back into Starfleet.  

If she had stayed on with Starfleet full time, exploring space, Jim knows he would have been stuck under the  long shadow of his father until he caved and broke under it.  

“Took you a while,” his mother smiled brightly at him.  “I have an equation I want you to look over.  This was sent to me from an old friend about trans-warp beaming…”

Her eager grin faded into a slow frown as she stared at his cheek.  Jim ducked his head as went to the fridge to pull a bag of peas and his glasses as he went.  He grabbed a container and slowly took the contacts out before sliding the glasses across a table and in his usual chair, bag on his face and sat in the silence, waiting for her to break it. 

The feel of fingers brushing the blossoming bruise on his cheek made Jim lurch back.  He glanced up, startled as his mother pulled back her hand with a raised eyebow.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, unwilling to look at her blurry figure until he pulled the pack off and put his glasses on.  “What was the equation for?  Trans-warp?” Jim began, trying to divert the topic.

“This is why I never wanted to see you go into Starfleet,” she murmured, looking like she wanted to reach out and touch his cheek again.  “It’s filled with brash idiots who don’t think before they act and they are going to get you hurt.”

Jim blinked.  

“Allan called,” she offered out, fingertips pressing together.  “Told me what happened and that Pike was back in town.” She scowled briefly.  “That man seems to think that he has some debt to you, to us, since he was a cadet under your father and an officer under me.”

“Mom,” Jim warned.  "He's been doing this for years.  You know it.  You've been there half a dozen times and throwing shit at him.”

She smiled at the memories.  And he grinned because he was 16 when this started.  Half the time he was sure Pike did it to rile his mom up, and half the time, he was sure he was doing it out of some fucked up tribute to George Kirk's memory.  But every once in a while, he thought Pike was being honest.  Wanted him.  Wanted to see what he would do out there in the stars.  What he would discover out in the black he had heard faint, half rambling stories from a drunk Winona years ago that he had committed to memory.  

“You should, you know,” his mother said, finally.

Jim stared at her blankly. 

“Go to Starfleet,” she stated.  “You should go.  Go explore the stars.  You can think on your feet, you know what to do, and –” She paused for one heartbreaking moment as her expression crumpled and reformed – solid and sturdy.  “You would have gotten out of the  _ Kelvin _ in one piece. ”  Her smile was honest, if a little broken.  "You're better than both of us at the thinking on your feet bs."

He swallowed the knot in his throat.  “I,” he croaked.  “I’ll always make it off the  _ Kelvin _ , Mom.”

 

Jim called Pike later that night and left him a vid message telling the Captain to expect his wish finally fulfilled, so the old man better expect this to be his last Kirk induced miracle.  He was fresh out of them.

 

Pike met him outside the ship early the next monring. 

The older man smiled gently at him, every wrinkle and age line welcoming Jim on board.  Jim shook his head and laughed, “Getting the VIP treatment, am I?”

Shrugging, Pike replied ,   “I just thought I’d come out and try to figure out if it’s my birthday.”

“Consider this the only birthday gift you’re ever getting from me,” Jim warned, hiking his bag higher up on his shoulder.  His glasses were slipping down his nose from the morning heat, but he didn’t have the hands to push them up.  “Though, I’d think a pony would be a better gift than little old me.”

Pike grinned, warm th and laughter shining in his eyes.  “Oh, I was going to ask for that pony, but then I decided that I needed a new Science Officer in a few years.”

Jim’s smile turned wicked.  “Expect it to be less.  I’ve got a bet running with Mom that I can beat her record.”

Laughing again, Pike waved the younger man into the ship and led him to the passenger holding.  “It’s a bit cramped in there,” he pointed out to Kirk.  “We’ve  recruited more than a few of our hopefuls.”  His eyes lingered on Jim long enough to give the hint about who Pike had been hopeful about.

It didn’t matter to Jim.  He had survived the dorms and a few hours ' flight to Starfleet Academy wasn’t that bad.  He could deal.  After all, he had something he wanted at the end of this. Something he had secretly dreamed about for years and years and years.  Starfleet was in his grasp.

“I drop you off here, Jim.” Pike waved his hand to the crowded hold.  People were milling around and strapping themselves into the traps.  Jim saw a few  people his age, but a lot more younger kids.  Damn, he was going to be one of the old ones for once.  He already knew he was going to be  known as the  old geezer – hell, he’ s d done that to all of his classmates since he attended college in his teens.

Jim nodded, looking for a place to store his stuff.  There was a hold over there – it could fit his two bags… 

“You know he’d be proud, right Jim?”

Snapping his head up, Jim turned his attention back to Pike.  “What?  That it took one of his boys so long to get into Starfleet?”

Pike looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t.  “He’d be proud of you.  Proud of who you’ve become and what you’re about to do.  He’d be ecstatic today, no matter your age.”

“Mom’s proud, Captain,” Jim answered, a hard edge in his tone.  “That’s enough for me.”

He pulled away, wanting to drop his bags and itching to push his glasses back up his nose. Damn it, they kept slipping.  Maybe it was time to get a new pair?

“Jim,” Pike said lowly.  “Your father spoke about how much he couldn’t wait for you to be born every day from what I heard about him on the  _ Kelvin _ .  He couldn’t stop talking about how he wanted you to have Winona’s nose, get her intelligence and teach you how to fly.  He couldn’t wait to see you.  He loved you, and  _ damnit _ boy, he’d be proud of you.  God knows I am, and I’ve playing cat and mouse with you for the past decade.”

Oh, Jim noted mildly, his glasses were fogging.  He really had no luck today.  Jim quirked his lips  up in a smile , “Thanks Pike.”

The  C aptain returned his fledgling of a smile before patting him on the back.  “Get seated Jim, we’ll be leaving soon.”

Jim nodded and watched the gold clad figure walk down the busy halls before he lost sight of the man.  He sighed and turned around to see that everyone was staring at him, and it was a similar crew to last night.   _Fuck_.    Dumping his stuff in the right container of the ship, Jim attempted to find a seat where someone wouldn’t stare at him like he was the newest life form that had been discovered.  

There was a man in a corner, drinking something out a flask  and  not looking in his direction.  Jim decided that he was the best candidate.  

The man  smelt of whiskey.  That was the first thing Jim noted.   Well, that worked out for Jim.  The man could drink all he wanted if he didn’t stare at the younger man.   When he took the seat, however, the man turned his head toward Jim.  “Why are you on this shit of a ride?” he asked, not a hint of slurring.  Maybe he had bathed in whiskey instead of drinking it.  

“Needed a new direction,” Jim honestly stated.

The man laughed bitterly.  “New direction indeed.  At least you aren’t being kicked off your home planet,” he took a swig from his flask after saying that. “Wife won the planet in the divorce, so I'm getting off this rock.”

Jim raised an eyebrow.   The ship took off at that moment, shuddering wildly.  All the passengers were thrown in their seats as gravity tried to fight against the ship’s thrusters.  “We're going to fucking die and my bones are going to be stuck on his godforsaken planet,” Bones scoffed before offering his flask towards the younger man.

"You're fucking cheerful," he countered before taking a swig and wincing at the taste.  Less whiskey and more moonshine flavor wise.

Bones laughed at his expression, “Leonard McCoy, Medical.”

“Jim Kirk, Science.”

“Just science ? ” Bones raised an eyebrow.

Jim shrugged, “Why limit yourself  to one thing  when you are good at everything?”

“You are trouble, Jim.  I know it in my bones.”

“Get use d to it, Bones.  I’m going to drag you down with me.”

The entire flight was spent with the two bickering.  All twelve hours , twenty-four minutes , and fifteen seconds of it. 

 

If there was anything he hated more than morons trying to punch him, it was paper work.   _Entry_ paperwork.

Yes, his name was James Tiberius Kirk.  Yes, he was human.  Yes, he was a  _ fully _ blooded human.  Yes, he had relatives in Starfleet.  Yes, he had a degree.  Yes, he had more than one bachelor's degree.  Yes, they were in Chemistry, Xenotechnology, and Astrophysics - he had tripled majored once he had tested out of the beginning classes to fill the time.  Yes, he had a Masters in Computer Science.   No, he didn’t have a PhD .  No, he did not have a fatal illness or an STD.  Yes, he had allergies, and they would need his medical charts for that.  Oh and yes, he liked long walks on the beach at sunset. 

“You done yet?” a rough voice interrupted his thoughts.

Kirk blinked and looked up to see McCoy staring down at him, his eyes squinting as he took in the younger man’s dazed figure.  “Hmm?” Kirk hummed for a moment.  “Oh yeah, I’m done.”

He gathered his stack of papers and hoisted them onto the ‘DONE’ table before turning to his companion.  “What’s next?” he asked.

McCoy ’s glared.  “Weren’t you paying attention?” he bit out. 

Jim smirked and threw his arm around the older man.  “I really wasn’t.  I was too busy trying to figure out what this guy did wrong with his transwarp beaming problem.”

“Your molecules aren’t supposed to be able to rearrange themselves like that, so why don’t you  _ not _ work on that damn problem,” the doctor muttered angrily.

Jim laughed loudly as they walked down the hallways.  He hummed, “Maybe we’ll be roommates.”

Bones glared at him.  “If they do, I’m using them for practice on curing plagues.” 

The younger man threw his arm around his companion.   “Come on!” he whined.  “I wouldn’t be that bad of a roommate.” 

(Bones requested him as a roommate too in the entry paperwork.  They were matched.  Bones swore loudly to Jim's amusement.)

 

 

The Academy wasn't much in the ways of science classes.  He worked on a few independent studies, took advanced specialties he had been drooling over for for years, and driving Bones out of his mind.  He passed two years in that easy familiarity of the education system and the comfortable pattern they fell into.

 

Winona called every once in a while, and started the latest vid call with: “Have you heard of the _Kobiyashi_ _Maru_?”

Jim groaned.  “That ‘no-win scenario’ BS test?  Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”  It was required for science cadets since there was always a chance they would be a science officer.  There had been rumors about what the test was based on, but anyone who took the test kept their mouths shut, annoyed and bitter for weeks after.    

Winona paused for a moment, which made Jim focus on her.  “I want you to beat it.”

“I always pass," he shrugged.

"No."  She made sure to catch his eyes as she said.  "I want you to _beat_ it."   He watched her for a long moment before she added on.   “They based the latest version on the  _ Kelvin _ ,” she murmured, not looking at him.  “They interviewed everyone on the bridge at the time and made it identical to the situation that happened.  Jim, that’s not right.  What happened –” she broke off, face resolute and pissed.  “It was a win scenario.  We made it off alive, baby. George did that for us, every single person on that ship.”

Jim swallowed thickly.  “Yeah Mom.  I get it.”

She nodded and turned the topic to a better discussion about her attempts to make a better wheelchair ( _ ‘leave an old crazy woman to her work, Jim’  _ and _ ‘no, I’m not expecting to end up in one’  _ were repeated a few times in the conversation).

But Jim remembered.

 

It took a while to get signed up for the damn test, even though it was a graduating course, more than a few professors, Admirals and other assorted students were terrified he was going to break the test.  Which he intended to do, but no one really needed to know that.

Bones had been groaning about it for a while.  “What is with this need to take a damn test?  If you’re exempt, take it and run with it!  There is no need to take a test you’re going to fail.”

“I’m not going to fail,” Jim had replied.

Bones had just shrugged.  “When you do, you owe me a drink.”

Two weeks later, he was in the room, sitting in the Captain’s  uncomfortable plastic chair.  He squirmed for a moment to get comfortable before giving up and waving a hand.   “Begin test.”

The script began about exactly how he had heard that one time before.  “We have received a distress signal from the _U.S.S Kobiyashi_ _Maru_.  The ship had lost power and is stranded.  Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them.”  Uhura was ranked as a lieutenant in his exercise as she read from the screen in front of her.

She looked bored, like she had done this too many times today.  Considering that they had thrown a team together for him (excluding the fact that he had requested Bones and the kid genius Checkov specifically), she probably had been stuck in this room all day, repeating the same line to everyone who had the misfortune of taking the test.

“Oh yes,” he yawned.  “Of course!  We should rescue them.”

Chekov's head snapped in his direction, wide eyed and mouth slightly ajar.  Bones was raising an eyebrow at him.  

Bones added on in a slightly annoyed tone, “Two Klingon ships have entered the neutral zone and are locking weapons on us.”

Jim smirked and took off his glasses to clean them.  They were a bit dusty.  “Alright.”

The entire room turned and stared at him.

“Three more Klingon warbirds decloaking and targeting our ship,” Bones returned to the script, shaking his head as well.  “Anything you’d like to do,  _ Captain _ ?”

Jim shrugged.  “Warn the medical bay and the CMO that they are about to receive all crew members from the damaged ship.” 

There was a pause.  Uhura finally went off book, “How do you expect us to rescue them when we are surrounded by Klingons?”

“Have a little faith, Lieutenant.”  He grinned at her.  “I’ll get us out of this.  By the way, alert medical.”

She looked like she wanted to punch him. 

“Our ship is being hit,” Bones stated in a bored tone.  “Our shields are at sixty percent.”

The entire room waited for his next move.  They didn’t have to wait long, because Jim spun around in the chair for a moment.   “Keptain?” Chekov called.

“Wait for it!” he said. 

They waited for a moment and then it finally happened, the screens flickered momentarily and the entire situation changed.  The Klingon ships had begun to fight each other and the _Kobiyashi_ _Maru_ was free to rescue the ship.  Jim fixed his glasses, and gave those exact orders.

The simulation ended 10 minutes later, a success.

 

It really didn’t take as long as he had thought it would for someone to challenge his run, and he wasn't surprised the meeting was before th e Admiralty.  

The first thing Jim noticed about the room was the sea of red.  The entire cadet class was seated in their uniform reds watching as he made his way to the podium for his trial.  Whispers were running wild and fingers were being pointed, but Jim didn’t care.  He was used to this reaction.  He had been widely known for his triple bachelor's program.  Had been a twenty one year old master candidate.  And most of all, he was Kirk.

Jim watched as the Admirals filed in.  A few familiar grey headed faces looked back at him – they were the ones who had called and begged Winona Kirk to come back to Starfleet (words like  _ your own ship _ and  _ Admiral _ had been thrown around a lot.  She had refused  _ every _ .  _ single _ .  _ tiime _  until Chris offered for her to build whatever ships she came up with).  He inclined his head respectably towards them.  He received a few smiles and nods in return.  After all, most had expected this. 

Admiral Archer called the meeting to order and began listing the charges against Jim.  It was what he had been expecting,  _ breaking and entering _ ,  _ manipulating a test _ ,  _ cheating _ – the normal stuff.  When the old man had stopped talking and finally asked Jim for his reasoning for all of this, he just let it go.

“First off,” he smirked.  “I did not break in and rewire the system, Admirals. I remotely hacked the firewalls and infiltrated the program.  I merely added at a success path to the machine's learning procedure, which is a surprise that no would chose to have a success pattern.  It made it so easy to update the test.  I then exited out of the program, added a few more firewall measures and turned off my computer.”  The crowd was silent.

Finally, Admiral Archer pulled his jaw off the ground long enough to ask, “Why did you do that boy?”

He shrugged his red-clad shoulders.  “You asked me to sir.  I remember you requesting a few years back in attempt to get me to join Starfleet that I should, and I quote ‘try and find a hole in Starfleet’s firewall’.  I also believe that you told me there was a ‘no way in hell that anyone could break that code’ as a challenge to join Starfleet instead of attend Harvard.  Took a decade, but I took you up on the project.  I broke it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bones shaking his head silently.

The Admirals were arguing among themselves and Archer was looked redder and redder by the second, when Jim finally took pity on them.

“The _Kobyiashi_ _Maru_ was out dated sirs,” he pointed out, loudly.  “The test itself is improbable.  The statistics of having the same attack at the same level of unpreparedness, the outdated vessel being used leaves the problem inconsistent.  The implied variables aren’t constant outside of this virtual reality.  By changing these things, I have made the situation more realistic.  I haven’t hacked the test, per say, I have merely made it more realistic.  Klingons are a bit fire happy – a proven fact, by the way.  If this happened today, they would attack as soon as they found an unresponsive, unidentified ship.  We can make that assumption after the near miss with the U.S.S. Eisenhower last month.”

He paused, watching the men, women and indeterminable genders watch him back.  He was trying to prove a point, and he hoped that these men could see that.  “The chances of that exact situation occurring again, with no Starfleet ships nearby for help, is improbable.  Thus, it’s a bad test and needed to be fixed.”

A larger blue figure on the left peered down at Jim, a frown creased into his lips.  “Did you do this because it was based on the  _ Kelvin _ ?”

Jim would never admit that he had gone to this level because of the Kelvin, but he would have pulled this no matter what.  It was a shit test.  Someone needed to call it out.   “No Admirals.  I was correcting a problem that had been ill-conceived and poorly executed.”

 

There were a few more curiously questions from the Admiralty, a few more stern warnings and when he was finally about to be released from the mock trial when someone broke the cadets' silence.

“Why did you do this Cadet Kirk?”

Jim shrugged his red-clad shoulders as he turned to see who has spoken.  The words had been precisely spoken, a slight accent and were formed.  Vulcan most likely, the Kirk noted.

His eyes fell upon a tall figure staring down at him.  Thin and lightly toned and clad in grey uniform, he was a teacher, temporarily grounded officer like all teachers were, but still a teacher.  Jim has missed him in the classes and wondered why the Vulcan looked familiar.   _Plot twis_ t _ , _ Jim mused.   _ This is about to finally get interesting.  _

After all, he had pissed off a Vulcan.  More or less.

He gestured to the podium beside him in a mocking invitation.  A slim brow raised in response to his challenged before the other made his way there.  Whispers rippled through the crowd and Jim knew that this would be the talk of the Starfleet gossip corners for the rest of the week – if not month.   “Why?” he questioned.  “I would like to ask, if the Admirals allow it, what right do you have to question my intentions?”

The Admirals inclined their head at the grey figure.  That was the closest they would get to approval for this line of questioning.  The Vulcan’s expression could have passed for smirking, if a Vulcan’s expression went beyond bland disinterest.  “I am your accuser.”

“Of course,” Jim muttered, ignoring the fact that there was a microphone.  “A Vulcan’s rigid logic doesn’t like my out of the box style.  Never has.”

Both eyebrows nearly disappeared into the fringe of the Vulcan’s dark hair, and Jim believed that the only reason they didn’t disappear entirely was because his eyebrows honestly couldn’t go any higher.  There were a few scattered chuckles around the room that were silenced by one of the more heavily scarred Admiral’s fierce glare.  "And for what reason would you presume to apply your 'out of the box style' as you called it?" 

This was going to be in the damn gossip circles for weeks - months even. 

Jim visibly rolled his eyes this time.  “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios,” he carelessly threw out.

“I am must admit surprise at that belief,” the other spoke. “Since the event in your infanthood, I thought you would support this test with the same passion you have against it.”

“ _E_ _ vent _ ?” Jim spat out.  “Oh, wait.  You mean the  _ U.S.S. Kelvin _ ?”

The Vulcan nodded.  “Did Starfleet not lose its current flagship at the time?  Did Starfleet not lose a captain that had the potential to be sitting with the current Admiralty seated before us?  Did you not lose a father?”

“Yes,” Jim honestly replied, tugging on his glasses silently.  “George Kirk died on the  _ Kelvin _ , but he saved 800 lives that day – including my few hours old self.  If he hadn’t died, I’d be an entirely different man.  That’s not speculation; that’s a fact.  But no offense Mr. Vulcan, I like who I am.”  

He nodded to the Admirals in front of him before quickly taking his leave of the room.  His strides were not fast, but they were measured – quick and sure – as he left the room.  Every eye in the room was glued to his back, and he could feel the weight of their collective stares, especially the Vulcan’s dark one.

He didn’t slow down until he had walked halfway across campus to the park, where the dying sunlight was making the plants look a burnt orange.  Collapsing onto the grass near a weeping willow, Jim folded into himself.  He maneuvered himself into a position that he hadn’t taken in year.  Pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, Jim watched as the breeze brushed the grass back.  Jim  listened to the city sounds, people chattering quietly, and simply took it in.  Let nature calm down the furious anger that was clawing at his insides.  The need to punch someone, the need to think in clinical numbers, the need to bury himself in work – they all fought inside of him.  Warring for escape, but Jim needed a moment. 

He needed something without ties to his father.  In moments like this, Jim Kirk hated Starfleet.

When the Starfleet issued phone in his pocket vibrated, Jim nearly didn’t pick up.  But only one person would call him now.

“Yeah,” he wearily answered.

“Where are you?” came Bones’ gruff tones from the tiny receiver. 

Jim nearly smiled.  That was the closest he would ever get to an  _ are you okay? _ from Bones.  It positively mother-hennish of the man.  “The park.”

That said enough about Jim’s emotional state for the two to read between the lines.  “Vulcan sent a distress signal about a lightning storm near atmosphere.  Pike wants you on the Enterprise now.”

Jim blinked.  “I should grounded because of academic review.”

“Pike doesn’t give a damn,” Bones returned.  “And you know just as well as I do that Archer pretty much dared you to do something like this.  You did, you won, move on.”

Jim paused, not answering.  There was some noise in the background before Bones huffed angrily.  “Pike says he wants his First Officer over here stat, and I don’t want to be the one telling him you ain’t here yet.”

“But I,” Jim fumbled for words.

“Jim,” Bones lowly said.  “You have more degrees than most of the officers here.  Hell, you teach your classmates.  Just get your ass over here, put on your pretty blue uniform, and sit in your shiny bridge seat.  Or so help me God, I will hypo your ass with some deadly plague that I don’t have an antidote for.”

“Yeah Bones,” Jim laughed, a slow grin spreading across his face.  “Give me five.”

Jim took off running.

 

 

 

Jim Kirk made it to the loading ramp of the  _ Enterprise _ in five minutes and fifteen seconds.  Bones knew it took that long, because he was standing in that ramp waiting all five minutes and fifteen seconds not answering his comm that was buzzing off the hook with calls from Pike’s yeoman.  The moment Jim saw that scowl etched into Bones’ face, he winced.  His best friend was pissed.  Out of his mind.

“I know, I know,” he blustered, waving his hands around wildly.  “I got list trying to find the  _ Enterprise _ , it is a huge shipyard I’ll have you know.  And –!”

“How can you get lost trying to find the  _ Enterprise _ ?” Bones queried, incredulity dripping from his words.  “It’s the new, big ass ship that shines so brightly it blinds you.”

Jim rolled his eyes.  “Oh come on Bones…”

“And you don’t have your shirt,” Bones ranted.  “That could get you thrown into the brig.  God knows that I am not your mother, I’d kill any child of mine that was as annoying as you, but I’m sure your mother wouldn’t make sure you had your shirt anyways.  She’s that sink or swim type.”

“True," Jim allowed.  “But, best buddy of mine; did you do what I think you did?”

Bones raised an eyebrow at Jim.  “Did I do what?”

“Bones,” Jim whined .

Placing the blue fabric out in front of him like it was a pink tribble, he warns Jim, “You owe me and entire nights of drinks for this.   _ An entire night _ . _ ” _

Jim eagerly tugged the blue shirt from Bones’ grip.  “ I swear.  An entire night of you getting trashed and my credits funding this entire expedition is the first thing we’ll do when this whole things ends,” he said mas he pulled on the shirt.

 

“And no bar fights,” Bones was adding, when Jim was presentable.  “And you have to come with me to visit Joanna next time.”

Jim pouted for a moment, “I would have said yes to visiting Joanna anyways.”  Bones just glared.  Giving up since the whole thing wasn’t getting him anywhere, Jim sighed, “Okay.  No bar fights.”

He nodded and Bones tapped the top of his own head.   “Glasses Jim,” Bones ordered, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the  _ Enterprise _ ’s corridors to the lift and shoved him in.

“What’s going on?” Jim questioned, bemused.

Bones merely pushed him into the lift, pressed the button labeled  _ bridge _ , and watched as the white doors closed.  His comm buzzed again, and Bones clicked it on.  “He’s in the lift now,” he growled, cutting off anything the yeoman had to say before shutting the comm off again.

He huffed before making his way to Medical.  Nurse Chapel had been assigned to the  _ Enterprise _ , so there was at least  _ one _ competent nurse on staff.  If he got there quick enough, they could pair off and get started.  H e nodded decisively as he took the right turn to Med Bay.  That could help keep his mind off the fact that he was more than one hundred percent that Jim was going to get ship blown up within ten minutes of this mission beginning.

 

 

When the lift opened, people were sprinting from place to place, making sure that all the pre-flight systems were a go.  Jim stepped out and was immediately pulled aside by the woman he was sure Pike had complained about as his “paperwork nazi” aka yeoman.

“Kirk,” she nodded (no smile, no emotion – working with her was going to suck).  “I need you to sign here and here.”  She passed him some papers on a touch screen.  Wide eyed, he signed them.

“Initial here, here and here.  Oh, press your thumb down there, and you’re done.”  She glanced up at him as she took the pad away.  “Congratulations, you are now the Science Officer of the _U.S.S._ _Enterprise_.”

Dazed, and maybe slightly confused, Jim stated, “Thanks?”

A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and Jim spun around.  “Hey Pike,” he smiled in that still dazed sort of way.  “What the hell just happened?”

Pike smirked.  “You just sold your soul to the devil.”

Jim blinked.  “The yeoman?” he hazarded a guess.

“Nope,” Pike disagreed, pushing Jim in the direction of the only empty seat on the bridge, besides the Captain’s chair.  “Me.”

Jim raised an eyebrow at that.  “Really?” he said, incredulity dripping from the word.  “You?”

Laughing, Pike asked, “Who do you find scarier?”

“Bones,” Jim promptly replied.  “Mom.”  He paused for a moment, running his hands over the cool white metal.  God, he  _ loved _ new ships.  “Mom is about a million times scarier than you.”

“Consider her training,” Pike’s eyes were sharp, like a shark.  “I made my last Science Officer run away screaming.”

Rolling his eyes, Jim haphazardly fell into his seat and blissfully shut his eyes.  Oh yes, this was so much better than that’s stupid Captain’s chair.  Science officers had padding in theirs.  “From what I heard, he was an idiot.”

“I hope you aren’t one.”

Jim pushed his glasses up his nose.  “Not when it counts.”

Pike included his head.  “Neither was your father.”

A moment of silence passed between them; Jim thinking about the man he had never met and Pike about the man he had studied, researched and modeled himself after.  George Kirk was someone they both idolized in little ways.  Jim in his quiet desperation to be different – to be the one who survived, and Pike through his actions as Captain – to do just as much good. 

There was a flurry of movement out of the corner of Jim’s eye, and he saw the lift’s doors slide open again, letting someone else into the bridge.  It was different, considering that the usual crew was already accounted for in the bridge and no one else had clearance to enter without Captain’s permission.

A scowl crawled across his features as Jim watched who stepped out.  Lean figure, gold uniform and dark hair – that wasn’t want gave it away.  It was the goddamn pointy ears.

 

“Kirk,” Pike nodded to the gold clad Vulcan.  “I think you have met Commander Spock.  He is my second in command and prepping to take on his own ship in the near future.  He’s learning under my command.”

Jim blanked his features for a moment, watching the Vulcan eye him with curiosity.  He would make sure that he didn’t have to spend any more time with this man during this mission.  The less time they spent near each other the less likely it would be that Jim would strangle the man. 

“We never met properly,” Jim said, forcefully.  “I’m James Tiberius Kirk, Science Officer.”

“Interesting,” the Vulcan –  _ Spock _ – raised an eyebrow.  “I would have expected you to be under academic suspension and grounded.  Not as Science Officer.”

Pike’s own eyebrows shot up at that.  “His case was going to be dismissed before the call came in, and anyways, I had already put the request in for Jim.  I recruited him, I claimed him.”

Jim nearly opened his mouth but Pike shot him a look.  “Get to work Kirk.  I didn’t jump through hoops just to have you sit here and chat while drinking tea. Commander S'chn T'gai, finish prepping us for take off.”

_Amanda Grayson's clan, and hybrid son_ , Jim thought.   _Yeah, that makes sense._  “Don’t be an ass Pike,” He threw over his shoulder as he spun the chair around to face the desk.  

Pike just waved his hand back, dismissing the topic and the two Commanders.  (Jim was  _ sure _ that this position came with the title of Commander.  Ninety-nine point nine nine nine repeating)

Opening systems operations on the touch screen, Jim set up the operations, biting his lip as he noted the modifications he was going to have to make.  The basic coding was archaic and it was going to take some eighteen hour shifts to get everything worked out, so that he could get to optimal working capacity.  

But the eyes staring at the back of his head wasn’t really helping with the codes he was typing.  “Yes?” he threw over his shoulder.  “I’m a little busy here.”

The Vulcan moved until he was standing in front of Jim, eyebrows furrowed slightly.  “I am not exactly sure how I have angered you, but I merely was pointing the logic out earlier.  I did not mean to offend you.”

Jim didn’t even look up from his code.  “This was at a trial.  An academic review, if we want to word this right.  You don’t think I’ll take offense over that?”

“You had created a background, manipulated the program and a dozen other infractions.  I was required by Starfleet to report you.”

His fingers stilled, and Jim turned his gaze from the screen underneath his fingertips.  “You’re right.  I’m not pissed off about that.  Good for you, being Starfleet’s lapdog.  What I have a problem with is the fact that you asked about the Kelvin for the program.  I am pissed that you interviewed multiple people making them repeat the worst day of their lives to you to use it against cadets. ”

Eyebrow’s relaxed, and the Vulcan stared at him, dark eyes unreadable.  He turned his attention back to the coding and taking off his glasses, hoping the Vulcan would take it as the dismissal it was.  He stood there for a moment before leaving without a word.  Jim glanced up as he left, watching as the communications cadet Uhura turned an inquisitive glance at him before facing Jim with a quailing glare.

Groaning, he pulled up the distress call as Pike began procedures to leave the docking station.  It would do him well to know the specifics of this mission.

After all, he already had two officers after his blood.  Better not add onto that list.

 

This entire situation felt like the freakiest version of  _ déjà vu _ Jim had ever experienced. 

It started with the distress call.  The way it was worded, in Vulcan logic which took a moment to decode, sounded way too familiar.  Uhura had muttered something about Klingon distress calls when she had shared lunch with him briefly earlier that month.  He had accessed Starfleet’s databases, found the ones her transcripts from the night before as well as note to her supervisor on checking it out.  No one had paid it much mind, but Jim could definitely see something wrong about this – especially since Romulans were attacking them.

It was like he had the entire equation, all solved out and everything, but Jim couldn’t figure out what the answer was.  And he hadn’t felt like this since he was doing Calculus II and his mother had had to sit him down. 

_ “You know this already,” she had laughed.  “You just forgot some bits, since it’s been so long.” _

Lightening storm was familiar, but why?  He hadn’t studied anything like this in class.  Sure he retained information well, but just barely mentioned facts?  Even those slipped his mind from time to time.

Romulan…Romulans…why the hell was the fact that Romulans were involved seemed like the key? 

He pushed the glasses up his noise and rubbed his eyes wearily.  The screen was starting to get to him.  Jim Kirk was going to die from eyestrain from a computer console.  He was going to end up in Riverside working as a ship mechanic and - t hat moment it all came together, sliding into place, Jim cursed under his breath, startling those around him.  He straightened in his slouched position in the chair, pushed his glasses back into position. 

Oh,  _ fuck _ .  

“Captain.” Jim called out, watching as Pike turned on his heel to look at his Science Officer.   He stood at attention , waiting for Pike to give him permission to speak. 

“Commander Kirk,” Pike stared at him, long and hard.  “Do you have something to say?”

He relaxed his stance.  This was his court, his place.  No one could disprove him  _ because he was right _ .  And if he didn’t say this a lot of people were going to die.

“This lightening storm had happened before,” Jim stated, voice smooth and calm, like he wasn’t about to shatter everyone else’s beliefs about what was going on.  “It was reported when the  _ U.S.S. Kelvin _ was destroyed.”

A blank stare gazed down on him.  “How did you come about this theory when Starfleet is sure, as well as the Vulcan science academy, that this is a natural disaster?”

_ Goddamnit Pike.   _ Jim furiously screeched in the confines of his head. _   Don’t question me.  We don’t have time for this bullshit. _

Instead, he calmly reported, “In First Officer Tyler’s report to the Admiralty, he mentioned a lightning storm of sorts.  It had distracted the Kelvin before they were hailed by the Romulans.  Officer Winona Kirk studied the phenomenon and never found a reason for it.  It is unique to that ship and only that ship.  A ship that had advanced weaponry of the likes we have not seen since.  We are  _ light years _ behind that tech.”

“Those reports are classified Kirk, how do you know about them?”

“When your Dad saves a man’s life, he tends to show up on the day of his death to commiserate it.  Commander Tyler rambles when he’s drunk too.”

“Anything else to support this crazy theory?”

“Lieutenant Uhura translated some Klingon communications about 47 war birds being destroyed by Romulans in the exact manner the  _ Kelvin _ was being attacked,” Jim pulled his eyes away from Pike for a moment, sweeping his eyes across those staring at him. 

Tugging on his glasses, the old childhood habit, he continued.  “The Romulans declared they did not have a ship like this and there was no attack planned on Klingon at the time.  Sir, this is not the rescue mission we all believe it is.”

God, Jim wished he had advised Chekov to stay in some position that would have kept him on the bridge, but  _ noo _ , he had to be a good advisor and tell the kid genius to put his brains to work in Engineering.  What he would do to have a believing face in front of him.

“Uhura,” Pike barked.  “Is this statement true?”

To her credit, Uhura did not flinch or glare at Jim.  She probably wanted to, he admitted, but she held her professional façade intact.  “Yes sir.  I advised Starfleet to look into it, but it seems like Commander Kirk was the only one to find it.”

Pike stilled for a moment, contemplating the situation (time, which Jim was sure they didn’t have).  “What do you think we’re flying into Commander?”

“A trap,” he honestly answered.  “Starfleet’s main fleet is in an entirely different system and by taking us out, they’ll have Starfleet and all planets allied with it at their mercy.”

The Vulcan moved to Pike’s side.  “Captain,” he stated.  “I do not doubt Commander Kirk’s theory.  His knowledge about the  _ Kelvin _ incident is second to none, and you studied it as well.  The logic he has presented is sound.”

If this hadn’t been a career making or breaking moment for James Tiberius Kirk, he would have gaped and started point while screaming  _ did the pointy eared bastard  _ agree _ with me? _   But Jim didn’t have the time – Vulcan didn’t have the time – for that.  Instead, he shifted his gaze back to Pike, watching as the man made a decision.

“Scan the outer lying space around Vulcan for Romulan transmissions.”

Uhura nodded and retook her place at the communications desk.  Apparently she had had field advancement as well if she was manning the console.  “Sir, there is some Romulan chatter.  Just a word or two, but there is still some chatter.”

“Hail the rest of the fleet.”

A brown headed communications officer attempted that.  “Sir,” she bit her lip.   “I can only get two ships.  The other four have dropped out of warp already and not answering their comms.”

“Jim,” Pike muttered loud enough for him to hear.  “I really hope you’re wrong, and the cluster fuck that you think is going to happen isn’t.  I want you to be wrong this one time.”

Jim sagged and kneaded his temples around the frame of his glasses.  “God, I hope so too.”

Pike spun calmly said, “Shields up, Red alert.  If what your commander thinks is about to happen, then we are about to enter the battle of our lives.”

That’s when the entire crew knew they were screwed.

The moment before the dropped out of warp, Spock turned his head and looked at Jim.  Without words, the Vulcan told him  _ I really hope you are wrong _ and  _ good job _ .  Jim nodded, and turned his head to the screen, unprepared for the scene before him.

It was like they had just warped into ship graveyard.  Pieces of the four other Starfleet ships littered the space around Vulcan, and for a second Jim couldn't think - couldn't breathe, until his brain flatlined and then started working again. He turned back to his station and got back to reworking the OS.   

“Emergency evasive maneuvers!” Pike barked at the navigator – Zulu?  Sulu?  something like that – as Jim started typing up the calculations needed to divert power from all unnecessary systems and get them to shields, weapons and life support.  He also began recalculating the figures for navigations.  They were going to need all the power they could get if they were going to get out of this alive.

People barked random phrases as the pilot tried to slip in and out of the debris, but it was more to keep everyone calm than anything else.  If shields were still up, everyone felt safe.  But Jim knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.  He kept trying trying to secure the more venerable parts of the ship to reduce casualties, because people were going to die.  That’s how the Romulan bastard worked.

“Hull piece ahead,” Pike was saying.  “Drop us underneath Sulu; we need to skim it at most.”

The pilots back was tense as he hunched over the controls.  Jim wanted to pat him on the back, but this was crunch time, and Jim was about fifty three percent sure that the pilot was younger than him.  They nosedived a bit, but the Enterprise merely skimmed a bit of outer metal on the broken hull of the star ship.

It was the ship beyond that measure that took everyone’s breath away.

Black mass of claws, it looked like the tail end of an octopus, but about a million times more deadly.  Jim had seen pictures of it sure, but it was massive.  The stumbling stories he had heard for years finally made sense.  

_ Not time for a panic attack. _ He thought furiously, pushing the glasses up his nose simply to do something with his hands.   _ Not now.  Later – after you survive this – but not now. _

Jim’s console beeped and he swung his head to it.  “Captain?” He called.  “The Romulan ship is locking torpedoes on us!”

“Keep those shields up Mr. Kirk!” Pike yelled back.  “Evasive maneuvers, people!”

For all Jim’s preparations, it didn’t help.  The torpedoes slid through the shields like a warm knife in butter.  It took out one of the stairwells outside the rear of the med bay according to the blue prints; the other uselessly hit the cargo hull, barely making a dent.

_ Don’t you die on me Bones.  I’m not going to be the one to call Joanna and tell her Daddy’s dead. _

“Shields at thirty five percent.  We can’t take a direct hit Captain; the weapons are too advanced,” Jim stated, typing furiously.

“Just reroute power and let me worry about that Kirk,” Pike returned.  “Lock weapons on that ship and fire.”

But it was useless.  The core of the ship was hidden beneath the mass of black tangles, and there wasn’t enough time to get a clear shot.  “Torpedoes locking on us!” Jim warned, and wondered if this is what it felt like to die.  Terror, calm and regret all rolled into one ball at the bottom of his stomach.

“Someone send a comm to Starfleet command!”

“The pulse beam from the ship that is focused on the atmosphere is disabling the ships communications,” Spock reported, turning to look at Pike.

Pike swore under his breath.  “Someone get a hit on that ship  _ goddamnit _ .”

And then, all of a sudden, the Romulan ship stopped attacking the  _ Enterprise.   _ Weapons went off line and the two ships – the injured  _ Enterprise _ and perfect condition Romulan ship – simply floated in space.  “We’re being hailed by the Romulan ship,” Uhura called.

Pike took a breath and nodding to Uhura; she pulled the call up on screen.

“Oh hello,” the face – Romulan – greeted the crew of the  _ Enterprise _ .  “Who is the captain here?”

His eyes lingered on Jim too long, and he had to wonder if the Romulan was seeing ghosts.  Probably not.  He seemed like a sadistic bastard who didn’t give a damn about who he killed.

“I am.  My name is Christopher Pike of the  _ U.S.S. Enterprise _ ,” Pike said from his seat.

“Hello Chris.  I’m Nero.  What can I do for you today?  Just destroying Vulcan.  Give me a bit longer and it’ll be gone.”

“You have declared war against the Federation.  Withdraw or you will be destroyed.  Withdraw –”

“By little old you?  Big words for a wounded ship, Chris.”

“- and I will arrange for a conference between Starfleet and Romulan leadership.”

“I don’t speak for the Empire,” Nero stated.  “We stand apart.  I’m merely doing some house cleaning in order to keep the Empire safe.”

Someone gasped in the room, causing the Romulan’s eyes slid over the crew, pausing on Uhura, Sulu and Pike.  When he caught sight of Jim near Pike, he began to laugh.    “ _ James Tiberius Kirk _ ,” the Romulan hissed, twisting Jim’s name like it was a curse.  “Oh, what I’ve done to your destiny.  Destroyed your mother with grief.  That woman was always weak, and left you without your beloved father.  Not exactly how it was suppose to be.  After all, you were never one for blue.”

Jim's mind was churning. _  How does he know me?  How could I be the target of an attack before I was even born?    _ His fingernails bit into the fists he was making.  “I like blue,” he bit out.  “And anyways, a Kirk's been in command.  Time to try something new.”

The grin turned five shades more wicked as the Romulan turned his gaze to Spock.  “Hello Spock,” he grinned, all teeth and no warmth. 

Spock stood up from his station and moved to face Nero.  “I do not believe we are acquainted.”

Nero laughed, a hollow little laugh.  “Oh you will, Spock.  We just haven’t met –  _ yet _ .”

_ What the fuck does he mean by 'yet'?,  _ J im thought.  

Spock tilted his head as if wondering the same thing Jim was. 

“But don’t worry,” Nero said.  “I’ll make you watch as everyone you ever cared about died.  Just like you made me,” he paused, eyes drifting back to Jim.  “And then I’ll torture Kirk in front of you.  If he dies, there is no chance you can ever achieve what you should be.”

_ He doesn’t want to fuck with my head _ , Jim realized.   _ He wants to fuck with the Vulcan’s.  But why use me when I mean nothing to Spock? _

“If you come on board Captain Pike,” Nero offered.  “I may just let Jim live.  He is  _ such _ a pretty young human.  He could be my slave.”

Pike tensed.  “You leave my crew alone.  I’ll come over, alone, and you will leave this planet and the  _ Enterprise _ is.”

Nero laughed and  _ laughed. “ _ The  _ Enterprise _ is always going to be involved, Pike.  That’s what’s written in the stars.  Ten minutes, Pike.  Hear the tick tock?  That’s your time running out.”

The comm clicked off and every eye in the room turned to the Captain.  Jim knew, even before he looked Pike in the eye, that he was going to go.  He was going to play the sacrifice and allow himself to be tortured in Jim’s place.

“Put up with communications with the med bay,” Pike ordered.  Uhura’s fingers flew on the screen, and  Bones’ grumpy face was put up for the entire world to see.  The knot in Jim’s throat loosened a bit at his best friend’s face.  He didn’t look enthused, but Bones was alive and moving.  That was all that mattered. 

Bones’ eye’s skimmed the bridge for a moment before finding Jim and something loosened in his eyes as well.  Jim had to fight back a smile. Mother Hen McCoy.   _ See? _   He wanted to say.   _ Not even a scratch on my glasses.  Verbally threatened by the Romulan who killed my father, but I’m totally fine _ .

“What?” the doctor barked, ducking under some sparking wiring and turning around to bark out some orders. 

“Where is the CMO?” Pike questioned.

“Considering that the old one is dead in his office from the blast, you’re talking to him,” Bones retorted. 

Pike closed his eyes for a brief moment, mourning the man who had passed on.  “We’re sending all the wounded up and also get ready for Vulcan refugees.”  Bones nodded before ending the comm link.

There was a pause on the bridge as everyone waited for Pike to  _ say _ something.  When he didn’t say a word, Jim finally gave up.  Pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose, he cleared his throat.  “He’s absolutely nuts,” Jim warned.  “He’s nuts, and he wants me.  Let me go.”

Pike scoffed.  “Nice try of playing the matter Jim, but it’s not happening.  God knows you’d just haunt me after you died, just to piss me off.”

“True,” Jim conceded.  “And so like me.  But why the hell are you running off into the arms of a madman without a plan, especially when he won’t keep his promise.”

Spock added, “I believe the captain is trying to buy us time to save Vulcan.”

“Spock,” Jim turned to his co-Commander.  “He’s planning to get himself killed.  He’s captain, so he ought to send someone else in his stead.”

“So eager to die, Commander Kirk?” Spock challenged.

Jim laughed – a sharp sound.  “I’ve been living on borrowed time since the moment I was born.”

“Stop bickering,” Pike sharply said, pulling the two co-Commanders attention back to him.  “Come with me.  The rest of you, prepare to take on as many Vulcans as we can.  Sulu, your personnel file said you know how to fight.  Correct?”

The pilot let out a forceful  _ yes sir! _ before Pike continued.  “Good, grab two security officers and meet us at the jumper bay.  You are going to take out that drill.”

To Sulu’s credit, all he did was blink before taking off down the hall.  Jim had trouble enough keeping up with Pike’s brisk pace down the twisting corridors of the  _ Enterprise _ .  “Captain,” Spock didn’t sound like he was out of breath, the bastard.  “I must advise against this course of action.  As Commander Kirk attempted to convince you, the Captain should not abandon his ship.”

Pike simply replied.  “Not abandoning her.  Just handing her over for a bit.  A rental of sorts.  Spock, you’re captain and Kirk you’re first officer.  Don’t break her, we just got the ship.  Oh, and no wild parties.”

They paused outside the bay doors, where Sulu and three security officers were standing, suited up and ready to go.  “Pike,” Jim growled.  “Don’t you dare die before I get you out.”

Weary eyes softened for a moment.  “I won’t.  See you in a few hours’ boys.”

Jim watched with a heavy heart and a churning gut as Pike stepped into the lift with the four others.  As the doors slid shut, Jim knew he wasn’t going to see Pike again.  Not unbroken, not unscarred, not like he currently was.  He won't be there a second longer than necessary,  he promised himself _. _

The moment the door slid shut, the newly minted Captain turned to Jim.  “I must go to Vulcan and get the elders off the planet.”  He began to walk in the direction of the transporter room.

“No,” Jim immediately objected, following the Vulcan.  “No way in hell.  We just lost our first Captain, and no way in hell am I letting you just go off too.”

“I am better sustained for the planet’s temperature, and I know the way.  We don’t have enough time to get a team prepped and ready to go.  I should go.”

“No,” Jim repeated.  “No. No.  _ No _ .  We  _ need  _ a Captain right now, so no going off the ship.”

“It is only logical.”

“No, it is not.”

“Commander Kirk, it makes sense.”

“Nope!”

“My  _ mother _ is down there!” Spock harshly whispered, speeding up as they neared the doors of the room.  “I need to get her off the planet.”

_ And there, _ Jim thought _.  Is the crux of the problem.  _  He thought of his own mother, her vibrant blonde hair, high in bun on her head, how she looked when she was on the vids.  A good weary for the first time in years.  He can't imagine not trying to save her.  

“Okay,” he pulled back, watching as Spock ordered the coordinates.  Chevok was at the controls, setting the coordinates, wide eyed.

The Vulcan turned to him, confused.  “Okay?” he parroted.

“Yeah,” Jim shrugged.  “Okay.  Good luck.”

He reached his arm out, as though to pat Spock on the shoulder, and pinched a nerve instead.  The Vulcan blacked out instantly, and Jim caught him with a grunt.  God, the Vulcan was heavy.  Jim sent a brief prayer of thanks to his mom for making him learn the major knock out points for all major Starfleet allied species.  He carefully laid his commanding officer down on the ground.

“Chekov, he’s going to wake up in eighty three seconds pissed off.  Tell him I’m taking care of everything and don’t let him go down.  I don’t care; just don’t let him do it.  Acting Captain orders since Captain Number two is down for the count.”  Jim ran to the pad and quickly got into position.  “Energize!”

He made sure to push his glasses up one last time.  Vulcan was known to be windy, and he didn’t want the glasses flying off his face, leaving Kirk blind in a fucking desert planet that was about to explode.

Eyes bugging out of his head, Chekov nodded and pressed the button to send him down planet side.

_ He owes me after this.  Like never stuck on the same ship ever again, owes me,  _ Jim thought as he vaporized away _. _

 

There were a group of people standing in a semicircle, and Jim’s eyes searched for Amanda Grayson in the sea of Vulcan's.  He wasn't going to fuck this up.  Not now.  He wasn't dealing with Spock ever again and fucking this up was a safe way to make sure he had to deal with the Vulcan for the rest of his life.  

_ No _ , some little voice in the back of his head whispered.   _ You don’t want him to deal with a gaping hole like yours because you lost a parent. _

A woman with a covered hair looked up at him.  “Who are you?” she said in hushed tones.  “This is sacred land.  The council will be displeased.”

Covered head, hiding her physical human traits from view, she looked exactly the same from the vid of her lecture from a month ago.    “The core of Vulcan has been compromised.  We have minutes to get off this planet.  We need to evacuate now," he announced to the room.   A few eyes widened, the only acknowledgement of what was happening and who was attacking him.  One Vulcan male whispered a _Jim_ _? _ before Jim finally neared the last turn in the cave’s exit.  “Chekov, I need you beam all the beings in the 50 feet radius out of here now,” he urged in his comm.

Someone responded, but Jim didn’t hear a word as he watched Vulcan begin to crater and fall apart.  Sections of mountains were cracking off and plummeting rapidly.  There were holes in the desert sand where land should have been, and it was evident in that moment that Vulcan was quickly falling to pieces.

“Hurry it up,” he barked, pulling the linguist back when the ground began to crumble under her feet.

Pavel answered this time.  “Locking on…. _ now _ !”

He felt the transporter energy wrap around him, buzzing faster and faster until they disappeared from sight of the collapsing planet.  Not that Jim believed he would ever get that sight out of his nightmares.

When the stars faded from his view, he turned to make sure all the Vulcan elders were accounted for.  They were, bewildered and more than a bit confused, but they were.  Spock stalked into the room, and Jim let go of his mother's arm and pulled himself to the command desk where Chekov was sitting.  "Looks like you saved the Vulcan council."

The younger man, and Jim could remember working with him on his homework for Theoretical Applied Physics last week, turned solem eyes to him, "There were a billion beings on the planet.  We can't beam them all on."

Jim felt weary.  "I know," he replied.  "But we have to take the wins where we can."  He clapped a hand on Chekov's shoulder and looked up to see the older Vulcan who had whispered his name staring at him.  Jim almost walked over when  Bones burst into the room.  “Jim, get the hell over here.  I have a deadly plague with your name written all over it for breaking protocol like that.”

Jim shrugged.  “It was me or the Captain, and the Captain ranks a bit higher on the ‘need to survive’ list than me.”

“You  _ idiot _ ,” Bones growled, visibly checking out Jim for bruises, scrapes or anything that needed to be treated.  “You are going to give me a heart attack before I can get my night of drinks out of you yet.”

Jim smiled – his tiredness easily readable in it.  “You said I was trouble  _ years _ ago Bones.”

Chekov was back to being hunched over his consol, called out.  “I’m trying to transport some Vulcans out of the education facilities.”

Jim nodded his consent.  “Go for it,” he replied.  “Get as many out as you can.  We literally have seconds here.  Now excuse me, someone needs to be on Bridge and our Captain needs to find a place for our guests.”

Spock glanced up at him, over his mother’s head.  Gratitude was written in his dark eyes and Jim inclined his head, “Take your time Captain.”

That was the closest he would ever get to saying  _ you’re welcome _ to the green blooded bastard.

He left the transporter room with quick strides, but the moment those door closed behind him, Jim took off sprinting.  Cadets and officers stopped and stood at attention as he sprinted pass, but Jim didn’t give a damn.  All he was thinking about was different ways to get those people off the planet.  And those tiny little children that weren’t all going to make it.

_ Focus, Kirk. _

He entered the bridge to just in time to see Vulcan collapse in on itself and just disappear.  A million little lives suddenly  _ gone _ just like that.

There was a silent pause as the entire turned to look at Jim, horrified expressions on their young faces.  He hadn’t seen it until now, how young they were.  How young they all were.  An entire room of a crew under the age of thirty dealing with the largest threat Starfleet had seen at least a thousand years.

_ God, how where they going to do this? _

Lights started flashing and alarms were going off, and that was when Jim saw the dark hole attempting to pull them into its grip.  “Everyone!” he barked.  “Get to your stations and get us out of here!”

Someone had taken his place at science station, so he stood on the bridge, holding onto that  _ goddamn _ uncomfortable captain’s chair, mind whirling with ways to get out. 

“Where to?” Sulu – Jim was about sixty seven percent sure that was his name, but then everything was staring to blur together now that the adrenaline was wearing off – called out.

“I don’t give a  _ flying fuck _ ,” he cursed as the ship shook, nearly taking his glasses off his face.  “Just get us out of here!”

There was some stations yelling at each other for a moment, and Jim was about to knock someone over when the blurring stars that were so familiar with warp travel overtook the viewing window.

The entire room let out their breath, and Jim sagged a bit, falling heavily against the chair. This better be the last crisis for the moment.  Simply catching his breath, he looked around the room.  Under the age of thirty, his crew may be, but  _ goddamn _ , they were  _ fucking geniuses _ under pressure.

He grinned for a moment, a sure fire cheek to cheek, all his teeth beam.  “That,” he cheered.  “That was _ pure fucking genius _ .  After this is all over, I want to keep ya’ll.  Can I?”

Laughter, a bit high pitched and nervous, fluttered out.  Most just high fived and smiled, but there was a large change in atmosphere.  “We rock,” someone in the corner muttered, and Jim had to agree.

“Did you - ?” Uhura started before stopping.  Her face was a mix of hope and terror. 

Jim nodded.  “He’s with them now.”

No one had to ask.  They had all seen the scene that had been made merely half an hour beforehand. Everyone knew what they were talking about.

“What are our orders?” Sulu asked. 

Jim blinked.  “Let me ask the Captain.  For now, start plotting a course for Earth.  That’s the most suitable planet for the Vulcans to be placed.  But broadcast to the ships that made it off to go to directly to the closest Starfleet base.  There will be more space for them there.”

“Shouldn’t we go to the base as well?” Someone in a red shirt asked.

Jim shook his head.  “No, Nero wants the mess with our heads - the Captain's specifically.  We need to head to Earth and cut him off, or what happened to Vulcan could happen to Earth.”

Communications began connecting with the various starships and gracefully handling very annoyed captains as well as notifying Starfleet of the situation at hand.  The rest of the crew murmured their agreement, going about their respective jobs when Chekov burst into the room at a run.  Jim already knew this was a bad sign, and it got worse when the boy opened his mouth.  “The Keptin has collapsed!”

Uhura moved to leave the room, but Jim was thinking straight.  “Stay where you are Lieutenant,” he ordered.  She glared at him, promising him a slow and painful death with her eyes.  “We need all the crew here, no one leaves the bridge.”

“Proceed to Earth,” Jim called out, hating the title that now clung to his name.  

He tugged off his glasses to rub his eyes for a moment before putting them back on, and carefully tried to not think about the last time a Kirk had been Captain.


End file.
